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She was wearing jeans today and not her signature leggings and sweater. It was a pair of faded jeans and an oversized shirt and smiling as she walked in with the food tray.

“Hey, you.” She said, “Sorry to interrupt, but Alba said you ate very little for breakfast before locking yourself in here. “

I heard the chiding tone in her voice, and it made me smile. She sounded like a concerned mother and wife, both simultaneously, and a sharp image of her with a bulging belly filled with my child came to my mind. The idea is staggeringly clear that I stared at her for a long time until she looked up from setting the tray on the desk to find me watching her.

“What?” she asked, with a slight smile on her face as she watched me with suspicion.

“Nothing. Come here.” I told her, and she wasted no time coming around my desk. My hands gripped hers the second she was close enough, and I set her on my lap.

“Your leg.” She tried to protest but I pulled insistently at her hands until she sat down, although I could see she was trying not to put all her weight on me.

“Relax. I can handle it.” I said, and she tried to relax again.

“What’s gotten you so excited?” She said, her hands threading softly through my hair, and I closed my eyes at how good it felt.

“Is it pathetic that I’m excited every time you walk into a room? It felt like each time you walk into a room, suddenly everything became better.” I sounded as sappy as a Shakespearean character, but I didn’t care. I wanted her to know how happy she made me, and I hoped I made her just as happy.

“It’s not pathetic. It's romantic. I did not know you were such a romantic.” She was whispering as her lips descended to mine, and she said her last words against my lips just before she pressed them against mine.

A sigh escapes her lips, and my tongue slides into hers the second her lips part open. Her hands gripped my head, and my arms around her tightened. I was already hard as a rock against her, and I could tell she could feel how much she affected me when she ground her ass against my erection, eliciting a low groan from me.

She tried to stand up, and my arms tightened around her, but she only adjusted, so she sat astride me.

We sit like that for some time, kissing hard and the soft little nibbles as I lick her neck, earlobe, and jaw, and then lower to her breast while she made soft sigh-noises that only make me even harder.

When she leaned back, away from me, we both stared into each other’s eyes like we were making some silent communication.

“I have to go help Alba.” She finally said softly.

It felt a little too intense, and I could tell she felt it, too. I did not know if she was fleeing from this thing between us or if she had to go help Alba.

I didn’t question her about it but nodded, and she pressed one more soft kiss against my lips before she got up from my lap and walked out of the office. I could hardly concentrate after she left, and I ate every single thing on my plate even though I had no appetite and I could barely taste the meal.

My phone pinged for a long while after she left and my plate was swept clean. When I glanced at it, it was a text from my father. He’d been trying to call me for the past few days. I’d been ignoring his calls because I knew exactly why he was calling me and wasn’t ready to deal with that.

Chapter 20

Christian

Myfatherwasgettingon my last nerve.

Setting me up with all the single heiresses of New York City would not make me any more interested in marrying them than I was even before I began dating Gigi. And especially not now when only one woman was occupying my thoughts.

Ignoring him didn't work; he’d called Alba and threatened to fire her if she did not give me the phone to talk to him. I had no choice but to speak to him then.

“Why have you been ignoring me these past two weeks?” My father said immediately. Alba handed me her phone. She was giving me an apologetic look, and I waved it off, giving her a reassuring smile. It was not her fault my father was insistent.

“Because I didn’t appreciate being ambushed by my parents after conning me into attending a gala I didn’t have to attend, just so that they could foist off a new wife on my hands.”

“You would be lucky to have Thea Wright as your wife. She is being match-made to marry the president’s son, and I got her on a golden platter only for you to ruin it.”

“You can marry her yourself, dad. If you think she will be such a glowing addition to the company.”

“Now, don’t be cute with me, son. I thought you were older now and smarter, given what you’ve been through. I thought you would understand how these things worked.”

“Oh, I understand it perfectly, dad. Which is why I’m still not interested in marrying Thea.”

“You know that woman has had the hots for you for years, right? She could have the president’s son, but she’s still willing to go on another date after you treated her like shit and bolted out of the city the first chance you got.”

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